Mr. College-Bound

Chapter One, Part Two

Once we were far away enough that the music was nothing more than background noise, Ryder let go of my hand and stood tall before me. "I'm sorry if I-," Ryder had began, but I interrupted. "You didn't... I didn't mind. I was surprised, but I didn't mind, not one bit," I said, my eyes wandering from his eyes to his lips again.
Then, the prayers I was in denial I had were answered and Ryder grabbed my hand again, gently pushing me against the brick building we stumbled upon and kissing me. Both of our breathes were rank with alcohol, and neither of us seemed genuinely sure of what we were doing... and that was almost a lie. We truly wanted it. I didn't know what I was doing, just hoping that whatever I was doing was right.
I returned the favor, kissing him back. It wasn't long before our drunk selves were feeling eachother up, and eventually Ryder put the question in the air, "I live kind of far from here. How close are you?"
"Only a block or so."
"Good."
This time I grabbed Ryder's hand and led him off towards my apartment. We made casual conversation along the way, bonding more and more. Then eventually, we were there. I let him walk in first, and I quickly found myself yanked in after him and pressed against yet another wall as he kissed me. The alcohol had began to linger at a middle state. We were both a little more clear as to what exactly we were doing, however that didn't stop either of us.
Slowly we had played around with each other, our clothing coming off one article after another, and when the time was getting close I was tossed into my futon and giggled as Ryder fixed himself over me. Next thing I knew things really started to heat up. We came closer and closer together, and our eyes were locked on to each other's. I let him use my body in all sorts of ways that made me scream with love. Lastly, when we sweetly finished a while later, we passed out beside each other.

That morning, when I awoke, it was 6:30AM and I panicked, sitting up quickly. "Shit!," I spat. A familiar face popped into the doorway. "You okay?," Ryder asked. "What the fuck?!," I grabbed both sides of my face, looking at Ryder, who was in only his boxers, and tried to say something. "I- but- I- wait- I just- it's not- what???," I paused, sighing. "I'm going to be late, nonetheless!," I cried out.
Ryder came over and kneeled by the bed, taking my hands into his. "It's okay," he said softly and my worries subsided for a moment. I took a deep breath and nodded my head, then Ryder let go. I got out of bed, the sheet around me as I concealed myself. "I have to shower," I said quietly, heading to the bathroom.
I took a quick shower and got dressed, then brushed my teeth and did my messy hair. I had had the same haircut since practically birth... everything was changing, perhaps my hair could use a change, too.
When I got out of the bathroom I headed towards the kitchen to find two omelets on the island and Ryder filling two cups with orange juice. He looked over his shoulder to me. "Just to help speed your morning along. I don't mind being late to my job, it's practically expected of me to be late," he said, bringing the cups to the counter. He motioned for me to take a seat as he got his jacket and took out a bottle of painkillers. "I knew I'd have a hangover," Ryder chuckled as he took a seat next to me.
My head actually felt fine, but I took two just in case I was having a later hangover. We ate in a calm, blissful silence, until we both finished and he tried to do the dishes, but I insisted I would and began to clean them.
As I was working with a particularly hard to get spot on a plate, Ryder came up behind me, gently caressing my sides and making me jump and shiver, before leaned over my shoulder and kissing my cheek. "Last night was great. I hope to do it again sometime. I have to go to work now, I'll let myself out," Ryder said, and with that, he left.
I hurried and finished the dishes, then got my laptop and backpack for school and ran out the door, beginning a heavy jog to the institute. At the building, St. Charles University, I ran inside just in time before the doors closed and I began scrambling to find my first class, cultural arts. The halls were emptying quick, everyone knowing where they were going, and it wasn't until I finally stopped to ask for directions that I got to class, barley on time.
I walked into the almost filled classroom, hoping no one would notice me. I took one of the few empty seats left and got my stuff set up as quickly as possible, and finally, the bell rang.
"Good morning class," the professor had just walked into the room, and I looked over at him. Then, I almost walked my ass right out of there. Unmistakingly, that was Ryder. Or was it? He had the same hair, the same eyes, and the same voice. Only when he reached the front of the room, only a foot away from me as I was in the front row, and turned to face the room, did I truly know it was him.